“That girl?” She hikes a finger over her shoulder.
I peer into the living space, finding my daughter sitting on Claire’s lap with the brightest smile on her face. Ezra may have major competition for his title of Bea’s Favorite Person.
“If you’re really that concerned, have a chat with her.”
“You’re right.” I tug my sister in for a hug.
“What?”
“You’re ri—Oh, fuck off.” I wrap my arm around her neck and mess up her hair.
By the time Ezra and Millie leave, my daughter has left her fingerprints on every surface, exploring every inch of “Claire’s hotel.”
But it doesn’t seem like my girlfriend minds.
“I think she likes it here,” she says with a giant smile.
“It would appear so,” I reply, pouring Sauvignon Blanc into two glasses.
Claire retrieves a bottle of white grape juice from the refrigerator and fills a cup halfway for Bea. I pop a piece of cheese into my mouth, surveying the charcuterie board she put together while Bea took a bubble bath in the giant soaking tub. She dumped in half a container of bubble bath and pretended to be a mermaid. I was worried I was never going to get her out of there.
Bea’s pajamas didn’t make the trip with her from my sister’s apartment, so Claire gives Bea one of her sleep shirts. It hits her just above the knees, and she looks adorable in it.
We drag the guest mattress into the living room, and Bea makes herself a little nest with pillows and blankets.
Claire and I lounge on the sectional. Remote in hand, I pointit at the TV, ready to cue up a movie, but another idea hits me, so I set the remote down and crawl onto the mattress beside Bea.
She’s rearranging the pillows and blankets for the third time, but she stops when I boop her on the nose. “Hey, Dolly. I’ve got a question for you,” I say. “What do you think about Claire coming home with us?”
She looks behind her to where Claire wears a timid grin, then returns her attention back to me. “You mean like a sleepover?”
“Sure,” I laugh. “I guess you could say that. But for longer. What would you think if she slept over every night from now on? Like she did this summer.”
“Does this mean Claire is finally your girlfriend?”
I dart a look at Claire, and her grin turns into a proud smile. She winks and nods her approval.
“Yes. Claire’sfinallymy girlfriend.” I tickle under her arm. “Is that okay with you?”
“Yes!” she shouts, throwing one of Claire’s stuffed animals into the air and catching it.
“Do you have any questions?” I ask, wanting to be sure she understands the implications as well as a five-year-old can.
“Can we still play beauty salon?”
“Absolutely,” Claire says. “You can even wash my hair next time if you want.”
She bounces up and down on her knees, screeching. Apparently she likes the idea.
“Any other questions?” I ask.
She taps a finger against her chin like she’s deep in contemplation. “Can we get a pet bunny too?”
Claire snorts, slapping a hand over her face.
“Um,” I hedge, caught off guard. “We’ll need to think about that one.”
She frowns. “What about a milkshake?”
